throw us both in an oubliette. But desperation trumps caution, especially when your hand is lousy to begin with. “You let me think he was dead!”
“Yesterday was the first time you’ve shown up for school since the cleaving,” she said. “Besides, we weren’t going to endanger our network and our most valuable asset before we were certain you wouldn’t reveal us to the Consort.”
“He’s not an asset,” I said, shoving away from the piano. “He’s a human being. And we both know the Consort would kill Simon the minute they laid hands on him. I’m not about to go running to Lattimer.”
“Glad to hear it,” she replied.
I folded my arms and studied her. She was too calm. She’d known exactly what I would do when she dropped her bombshell, and she’d prepared for my reaction.
But she was right—telling me was a risk, which meant she was expecting a payoff.
“You didn’t tell me because you felt sorry for me. What are you after?”
Nothing makes you more vulnerable than ignorance. Mine had allowed Monty to manipulate me, and I wasn’t going to repeat the mistake. Besides, it’s always easier to bluff when you know the cards you’re holding.
Ms. Powell set the baton down, her eyes behind the thick glasses boring into mine.
“We want you to join the Free Walkers. Help us destroy the Consort.”
“You’re joking,” I said, a too-nervous laugh bubbling up. “You can’t destroy the Consort. It’s suicide.”
Without the Walkers, the Key World would be destroyed. Without the Key World, the multiverse would crumble.
“Not just suicide. Armageddon. You people really are crazy.” I edged toward the door, but she moved quickly to cut me off, holding her hands out as if trying to calm a spooked animal.
“We saved Simon, didn’t we?” she said. “Is that something a bunch of crazed anarchists would do?”
I paused.
“Think about all the lies the Consort has told you, Del. All the secrets they’ve kept. Is it such a stretch to think they lied about us, too?”
She took a step toward me and I eased away, nearly tripping over my backpack. “We’re trying to save the multiverse, and Simon as well. But we need your help.”
Walkers are trained to think about consequences. Every action has a consequence; every choice makes a world. I wasn’t even sure what Ms. Powell wanted me to do. But the only thing that mattered was getting back to Simon. I’d save him, then deal with the fallout.
Before I could reply, the bell rang, and we both winced at the noise. “Think about it,” Ms. Powell murmured as my classmates began trickling in.
“Missed you at lunch,” Eliot called as he set his books on the desk. I came around the side of the piano, and his mouth dropped open. “Your face!”
In my shock, I’d forgotten about Bree’s scratch. I ran a finger over my stinging cheek. “Is it bleeding?”
“A little.” He grabbed a tissue from the top of the piano and handed it to me. “What happened?”
I rolled my eyes. “Bree.”
“You need to go to the nurse,” he said.
“It’s nothing,” I said as Bree sidled into the classroom. I bared my teeth at her. “It won’t happen again.”
She blanched as she took her seat.
Gently Eliot turned my face to inspect the marks. “It looks terrible.”
“Thanks. I’m not self-conscious about it at all.”
His hand fell to his side, his voice turning overly casual. “You never said where you went during lunch.”
I tipped my head toward the front of the room. “Needed to ask Ms. Powell a question.”
“Some question. I waited all period,” he said. “Were you Walking?”
I avoided his eyes, but I couldn’t hide the bitterness leaching into my words. “Where would I go?”
I’d loved Walking, once. Infinite worlds, infinite possibilities. The freedom of slipping through Echoes, witnessing the power of a single choice unfold. But the thing I loved had taken the boy I loved, and the shining possibilities had tarnished. Even if Walking brought me back to Simon, the damage was done.
“Wish I knew.” His tone changed, determinedly cheerful. “What were you asking Ms. Powell about?”
Lying to your best friend, even for a noble reason, is never a pleasant feeling—and I’d had plenty of experience doing so. Eliot had risked his life and his future with the Walkers to help me. I wasn’t going to ask him again. And a small part of me worried that if he knew I was looking for Simon, he’d try to stop me. So I lied to Eliot, and I lied to myself, saying it was